


Insomnia

by orphan_account



Category: The West Wing
Genre: AU- deleted scene, Episode: s03e02 Manchester Part II, F/M, Fluff, its nothing literally just a conversation over gummy worms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Deleted scene from Manchester Part II. Josh can't sleep, so he goes to bother Donna.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	Insomnia

There wasn’t much more Donna wanted than to get into this musty hotel bed, switch out the lights, and go completely unconscious for four hours before she had to get up for the rally tomorrow morning. 

She scrunched her nose in the mirror as she pulled her hair up, still wet from her shower. She spit out her toothpaste, switched out the bathroom light, padded across the hardwood floor barefoot, and fell into bed. 

Ugh, Donna was exhausted. Every muscle in her body ached. She pulled the covers up to her shoulders, shut off the light, closed her eyes, and-

Someone was jiggling her door handle. Someone was opening her door, shutting it loudly, and someone was flopping onto her bed, landing on her legs. Donna didn’t even bother to open her eyes. God, one of these days, she was gonna put him in a car and tape down the gas and...

“Hey,” Josh said nonchalantly. “Want a gummy worm?” 

Donna cracked open one eye. He clearly had been at least trying to sleep, with a ratty Wesleyan t-shirt and sweatpants on. He rolled onto his back, still half on her legs, and tried to throw gummy worms in his mouth. He offered one to her and Donna wondered if it was too late to change her entire life trajectory. 

“Who are you and why are you in my room?” She groaned loudly, throwing a hand over her eyes. “I’m gonna call security.” 

“I have a key to your room, Ophelia, don’t try and win an Oscar over there.” Josh said. He successfully caught a worm in his mouth and pumped both his hands up in the air. 

“A strange man with a key to my room, interrupting me, a girl, all by herself, when she’s trying to _sleep-“_ She kicked his shoulder. 

Josh snorted. “You keyed into my room while I was showering yesterday.” 

“That’s different, I left my purse-"

“I was in the _nude_ , Donna, it’s just as vulnerable.”

“It is not.” Donna said, finally giving up, flicking on the lamp, and sitting up. Josh raked his eyes over her for a second before going back to his worms. 

“That’s Sam’s shirt.” He noted. 

“I stole it from you.” 

“Yeah, I stole it from him first.” 

“So, I didn’t even really steal it. I made reparations.”

“Only if you’re gonna give it back to him. Are you?”

“No.”

“Thief.” 

“If you don’t tell me why you’re in my room in the next five seconds, I swear to God, Joshua, I’m going to-“ 

“We’re blowing this RU-486 thing.”

She could have guessed something was wrong the moment he turned her door knob. But honest to God, Donna would prefer a talk about, like, her feelings, than listen to Josh rant about Plan B at 2 AM. 

“Among everything else, it's gonna look like we're kicking off the campaign by pandering to women's groups.” 

“And what’s wrong with that?” Donna said mildly. Josh rolled over until he was right next to her, head at her hips, and gave her a murderous look. 

“Most voters are pro-choice, “ He intoned, glaring at her. “But the ones that aren't are gonna devote their lives and their money to beating you. ‘Guns don't kill people; Bartlet does.’ It's gonna look like we screwed up the timing, so the press is gonna write about process, and not about issues, and getting political reporters to write about issues in the first place is like getting kids to eat their vegetables-” 

“You really need to sleep,” Donna said, pulling a pillow over her face. But that wasn’t enough to stop him, because of course it wasn’t. 

“Don't you want to know how it's like getting kids to eat their vegetables?” Josh asked, muffled.

“I need to sleep, too.” 

Donna heard Josh sigh, and there was a thump, like he had flopped down. She lifted her pillow up and found him next to her, studying the ceiling pensively, gummy worms abandoned. 

“It helps if there’s nothing on their plate.” 

Donna searched his face, found the answers she was looking for. Dark circles like smudges under his eyes, red tints in his lids, across his cheeks, hair less curl and more undefined frizz.

“You can’t sleep.” She said. It’s not a question. Josh looked over at her for a second, and then suddenly rolled off the bed and began pacing the room, hands in his hair. 

“I know I could stop this thing! One phone call! The President's not even involved! ‘Could you do us a favor, could you hold off two weeks? We love your drug but we don't want it folded into our news cycle’! I could have picked up the phone, I could have picked up the phone, I could-” 

“Josh,” Donna interrupted softly. “What’s this about?”

In the low lamp light of this hotel, hundreds of miles from home, Josh looking utterly wrecked, and Donna feeling her heart begin to constrict, the normal voice in the back of her head reminding her that this was not how Sam acted with Bonnie, Toby with Ginger, CJ with Carol, was subdued. He turned towards her, slumped against her wall, and rubbed his face with a weariness Donna knew he was feeling deep in his bones. 

“I blew the tobacco thing.” He admitted. “That could have helped us, and I was…” 

He blew air out and pushed himself flat against the wall. 

“This is gonna be a very close election.” He said roughly, and his hands rubbed at his face again, like he was trying to scrub his skin off. 

“Hey,” Donna said softly. “Come here.” 

Maybe it was how late it is. Maybe it was how tired he is. Josh obeyed without question, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes downcast. Donna sighed, tugged him closer, and threw her arms around him. Josh resisted at first, spine stiff, and then melted into it, tightening his grasp on her t-shirt. 

They broke apart, and Donna clapped him gently on the cheek. 

“It’s going to be okay.” She said. He opened his mouth to contradict her and she covered it with her palm. “Don’t talk. I’m feeling exceptionally affectionate towards you tonight and that can only be ruined if you, you know, say something.” 

Josh grinned with his whole face at her, eyes wrinkling. Donna didn’t remove her hand. 

“Like I was saying. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I promise.” 

Josh pulled down her hand, but didn’t let go, letting his hand hang loosely around her wrist. 

“How do you know?” He asked. 

“Because,” Donna said simply. “It’s you.” 

“Yeah.” Josh said. He stared at her for a second, mouth open like he was going to say something, and then decided against it at the last second. He got off the bed, pocketed his gummy worms. 

“Good night, Donna.” 

“Night, Josh.” 

Josh left, shut the door firmly behind him, and Donna heard the telltale _click_ of the lock turning. 

She turned off the bedside lamp and pulled her covers back up.

For a brief moment, clouded by exhaustion and stress, she considered not requesting two keys for each of their rooms the next time they were on a trip. And then she thought about Josh’s dimpled tired smile, chamomile tea at 2 AM, bad movies while they did prep work, and she dismissed it just as quickly. 


End file.
